


The Promise of a Lifetime

by Slytheringirle



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, M/M, The prompt says it all, based on a prompt, late night fluff, p.s. there is a surprise at the end, really - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-11 13:48:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20154607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slytheringirle/pseuds/Slytheringirle
Summary: Based on the prompt:E and r fluffy pillow talk??.The prompt says it, all really.





	The Promise of a Lifetime

**Author's Note:**

> That's my version of 'fluffy pillow talk'.

“Enjolras?”

“Hmmm,” came the sleepy reply from across the room. 

“C’mn, I know you’re awake.” Teased Grantaire with a grin. “You can never fall asleep with more than two people in a room.”

“Fine, I’m awake.” Replied Enjolras with a huff, rolling over to face him. “What do you want?”

“To have some quality time with my boyfriend.” Answered Grantaire, not missing a beat.

Enjolras merely raised an eyebrow. “Our friends are  _ literally  _ on top of us,” said Enjolras, emphasizing his point by pushing Courfeyrac’s arm off him.

Grantaire was fully grinning now. “I didn’t mean it that way you idiot, though if that’s what you want, then who am I to deprive the great Apollo of his desires?”

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “What did you mean then?”

The moonlight shining on his hair gave it an earthly glow, as though he was a mere mortal, if slightly superior. No, no that didn’t sound right. It was as though he was Diounysus. No, that also wasn’t right. Enjolras never drank, not outside formal social events at least, and that was part of his charm. He is and will forever be celestial, and he can’t reduce him to Dionysus, that role was reversed for him. Well, everyone has to take a break at some point, Apollo included, and that doesn’t mean he’s not Apollo. An artist is still an artist if they took a break from painting for an hour or two.

He must’ve been lost in thought for a while, because Enjolras was giving him an odd look. “Grantaire?”

He shook his head, smiling. “Nothing, sweet Apollo. I simply wanted to talk to you. You know, since sleep seems reluctant to embrace us both.”

Something softened in Enjolras’s look, or maybe it was just the shifting of the clouds. “Alright, what do you want to talk about?”

“Your bucket list?”

“My bucket list? You do realize I’m twenty-seven right? Only two years older than you,  _ two years _ !”

The brunet smirked. “So you’re saying you don’t have a bucket list?”

Enjolras huffed. “I never said that.”

“Spill it.”

“Well…” A dreamy look crossed Enjolras’s face as he tried visualized his list. “Number one, get my name into a book for doing something morally notable, like changing an absurd law.”

Grantaire’s first instinct was to tease, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Enjolroas’s tone was otherworldly, enchanting, and breaking it seemed like a crime worthy of Tartarus. “And?”

“Number two… Visit a state -yes, I want to go to the US- for a rally and then go sightseeing with a significant other. We won’t book a hotel or plan anything. We’d just hit the road and see where the wind leads us. We’ll have a tent with us and camp every night, but it’ll also be during winter, so one night, it’s going to rain and we’ll have to sleep in the car. We’ll be pretty upset about it but it’ll turn out to be the best night we've had yet.”

Grantaire wrapped his blanket around him tighter, his only protection against the air conditioner’s icy air. “Sounds amazing,” he murmured. And it truly was. 

“What about you?” Slipping from under Courfeyrac who had rolled over him and readjusting himself so that he was lying on his side, facing Grantaire.

“What?” He grinned. “Is that it?”

Enjolras rolled his eyes, but there was no heat behind it. “Of course not you idiot. But I can’t just tell you my bucket list with no price.”

“Oh?”

Enjolras grinned, turning to face him. “One thing from my bucket list and one from yours. Pretty fair if you ask me.”

“Cheeky,” muttered Grantaire, but he was smiling. Hey, you can’t judge him, his hot boyfriend was smiling at him from across the room. God, what he’d do to get his hands on him. “On the top of my list is selling a masterpiece. A literal masterpiece. Mona Lisa worthy masterpiece. It’d be nice to know that you’ll be remembered, you know? To know that decades from now there’ll still be proof that you were once alive. And who knows? Your work might inspire people, future Picassos and Da Vincis.”

Enjolras hummed in response, but didn’t say anything. After a moment of silence, Grantaire prodded. “What? Do you only have two points on your bucket list?”

Enjolras raised an eyebrow. “I listed two points,” he said. “You only listed one.”

Grantaire rolled his eyes. “Whatever.” And then, “It’s a pretty cliche one, but… Well, I’ve always wanted to backpack through Europe. Take pictures to paint later or paint on the spot,”-he shrugged-”whatever I feel like.”

“Sounds nice,” murmured Enjolras, his voice was getting drowsy. “Okay my turn.” 

Enjolras shuffled, rearranging his position once again. “I want to break into area fifty-one,” he said, a passion creeping into his sleep-toned voice. “See what’s actually going on in there and reveal it to the world. People deserve to know what’s going on in there, be it aliens or otherwise. The guards there have orders  _ to kill trespassers on sight!  _ If people knew what's going on in there, how dangerous it was, then they wouldn’t try to break in. Many people would lose interest if they knew that they were just testing weapons there.” Any hint of sleepiness had disappeared from his voice, replaced by the burning passion he reserved for the cause, and sometimes, when they were in bed, for Grantaire.

“But don’t you think that’d interest other countries?” Said Grantaire.“Like Japan, for example. They’ll want to see what the U.S is working on in there, stay a step ahead. And this might even open a blackmarket. More people will try to sneak in and gather whatever information they can in order to exchange it for money with other governments.” He was starting to feel more awake, a new kind of high creeping into his bones.

Enjolras shook his head. “True,” he said. “But people are  _ dying  _ because of this. And the only reason they’re doing this is ignorance.”-Grantaire snorted at that, ‘it’s just foolishness if you ask me,’ he muttered, earning himself a glare from Enjolras-”So if they were told what was behind the fence many would back off. And the officials can loosen the severity of the penalty of trespassing there. They can imprison them for a couple of years. By killing them they’re contradicting the excuse they initially used; ‘we’re keeping the place a secret inorder to protect the citizens’. That might’ve been an acceptable excuse until they started  _ killing  _ them for trespassing!”

Grantaire had to bite back a grin at the sight of Enjolras using air quotes. “We’re getting a bit sidetracked here,” he said, allowing the smile to break through. “How about we return to the bucket lists?”

Enjolras glared at him, but didn’t say anything.

“Okay, number three on my list is trying to climb Mount Everest.”

“ _ Trying?” _

He shrugged. “Let’s face it, I won’t be able to make it to the top, not without dying at least, and I have other points to accomplish, so maybe I’ll leave it to the end. When I’m thirty and dying of liver cancer.”

Enjolras frowned, “what makes you so sure you’re going to die of liver cancer?”

“Uh… My drinking habits?”

“But you quit.”

“That doesn’t cancel the risk.”

“It diminishes it.”

“It’s still there. And how do you know I won’t relapse?”

“You won’t,” said Enjolras confidently, but his voice was getting drowsy again.

“You don’t know that for sure. Plus, France has been rated to have the second biggest cancer diagnoses number. Sure, the survival chances are pretty high -for every three cancer patients, two survive- but with my luck -and that’s an important point here- I’ll be that third person. And don’t get me started on my pessimism, I have the-” He was cut off by soft snore and turned to see that Enjolras has fallen asleep, his golden curls fanned out beneath him and an arm resting on Courfeyrac’s chest. He smiled as he settled into his own mattress, pulling back the comforter from Joly.  _ Turns out you can sleep with more than two people in the room you bastard. _

Outside, the sky was beginning to lighten up, bringing the promise of a new day and, for a certain blond, of a lifetime.

**Author's Note:**

> In case it wasn't clear, the 'promise of a lifetime' will be Grantaire's marriage proposal to Enjolras. That's it fellas, that's the surprise. ...Sorry to disappoint?  
.  
Kudos and comments are very much appreciated!  
.  
And my tumblr, if you want. [@enjolraire-is-canon](https://enjoltaire-is-canon.tumblr.com/%22)  



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